


Hard to Handle

by voodoochild



Category: Extreme Championship Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rob's grouchy, Sabu's a little more mellow - isn't this backwards?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard to Handle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sila. Takes place circa November 2004, after Sabu's back injury, but before Rob blew out his knee. Rob was working for WWE, Sabu had just had a stint in TNA. I classify this as ECW because that's what they both remain.

"Asshole!"

Sabu looked up from the television. Rob had just blown in like a hurricane, in full-blown tantrum mode, throwing his bags to the floor and unsnapping his jacket viciously before tossing it into a heap on the carpet.

"I sure as hell hope you're not talking to me."

Rob finally looked over at him. "What? No, of course not. Fucking Vince won't give me off to be at the benefit."

_Of course he's not giving you off, idiot_, Sabu wanted to say. Rob should have known that his possessive-as-hell boss wasn't going to bend the "no outside bookings" rule just for him. Sure, the benefit wasn't affiliated with any one promotion, but D'Amore and Levy were booking it, and they were TNA guys. Vince allow his precious "Superstars" to work for Jarrett's people? Never gonna happen.

He settled for pulling Rob down onto the couch beside him - his best friend had been pacing, which kinda wore on his neck after a while, not to mention tweaked Sabu's already-painful leg if he shifted wrong.

"I told you he'd say no. Least you guys were taping in Detroit tonight - I'd hate to inflict you on some unsuspecting motorist when you're in a snit."

Rob shifted to sit cross-legged, glaring at him in surprise. "You don't think I have a right to be in a 'snit', as you call it?"

"No, I don't," he answered.

"Why not?"

Shit. Rob was in one of those moods, where he'd take out every little slight on whoever was within range. Yippee - it looked to be Sabu's turn.

Oh, hell with being cautious. What was Rob gonna do - break Sabu's neck a third time?

"Because you have a nice, cushy job, Robbie. If you get hurt, you have a benefits package that pays for it. Must be nice to sell your soul to Vince."

Fuckin' Jeff. Sabu liked the guy, he really did, but there were some things that you just had to admit Vince was doing right. Jeff wouldn't give his talent full hospital pay because he thought paying them their regular salary during their injury was enough. If you were main-eventing, sure. But most of the boys made their money off cuts of the gate; couldn't get that if you weren't there. And his regular salary just wasn't enough to cover both the surgery and the operation.

"Look, I'm sorry," Rob yelled, throwing out his arms. "I'm sorry for selling out for guaranteed medical coverage. I'm sorry for selling out for per-show rising incentives."

"I never blamed you, idiot!"

"Sure sounds like it."

Sabu rolled his eyes. "Did I tell you not to, back in '01? Not that you gave me a chance. You broke your knee, forfeited the TV title, and as soon as you got better, you signed on Vince's dotted line."

"Oh, excuse me for wanting a boss who's never declared bankruptcy and a locker room who doesn't try to kill me."

Sabu leveled a flat stare at him. "Tazz hasn't tried to kill you? What kind of joy juice has he been hitting?"

"Michael Cole."

He tried. He really tried not to laugh, but couldn't help it. The image was too perfect - that ill-tempered troll chasing the squeaky little announcer all over an arena, bellowing babytalk at him. At least Joey had the balls to clock anyone who took his slight frame and suits for weakness and tried something. Sabu turned his head to the side, trying to hide the growing smile and laugh, but it came out anyway. And then he couldn't stop - low snickers turning into that signature "heh, heh" Rob constantly teased him about.

And speaking of Rob, he'd started laughing as well (and where the hell that loud bray came from, Sabu had never figured out), sliding down the couch to lay his head on Sabu's non-injured leg. He was still shaking with laughter when Sabu's fingers started to absentmindedly trail through his loose ponytail. Rob had always had such fucking girly hair; soft and wavy like a woman's. He used conditioner and mousse, and everyone in the locker room knew it. Only reason no one had given him grief for it was that Rob could kick anyone under eight feet tall right in the mouth.

"I'm still coming to the show, you know," Rob said, only the slightest bit of whine in his voice, and Sabu had to smile.

"Yeah, I know."


End file.
